A' (Levixoc AU)
by cameden
Summary: A' is serial killer well known here. The victims are all tortured before dying of a haemorrhage, it's a bloodbath hard to bear, especially when you are new inspector like me. At that moment, sitting alone in my office, I didn't suspect that the next victim, it would be me.
1. Chapter 1

I have always dreamed of working with the police since I was little. Probably because of the movie, 'Lilo and Stich 2'. What relevance that has to do with the police could you tell me? A very short scene where police officers were sitting at a table dipping their donuts in a drink. Being a very greedy child, I could only be mesmerized by this scene.

The seven years old me would be disappointed to learn that I often take my coffee alone and no one comes to my office to give me a donut. This is the sad reality, but this bitter drink goes pretty well with this I always keep my head wrapped in papers, I'll end up as bitter and rough as my coffee.

A noise at my door makes me deviate from my computer screen. "Yes?" I ask out loud.

My colleague Mike opens the door just to poke his head in my office. "Nora, Mrs. Yaeger has arrived," Mike informs me, and I put my coffee on my desk. If it gets cold, I'll just end up making another one.

"Okay I'm coming, thank you very much," I answer, getting up from my chair. I tie my hair back to give me a little confidence in myself. What I'm about to do is probably the hardest thing in my career.

I crossed my office and into the waiting room where the woman I was waiting for is in. She is sitting on a soft blue chair; the fabric a little worn from time. The only thing to cheer up this room is a stupid potted plant, which I find gives rather a morbid effect. Gray tiles also paint a depressing and bland picture. This room actually makes me think of my doctor's waiting room from when I was little. Although, there are no toys for children here, but if there were I think the atmosphere would have been heavier. It's a decent waiting room; maybe I have just a problem with this room.

"Madame Yaeger," I state, and the seated woman raises her big amber eyes towards me. Once, I catch her attention I introduce myself, "I am Inspector Nora Church, thank you for coming here," and I offer her a respectful hand as she gets up. As soon as she grasps my hand, I can feel she has broken out in a cold sweat, not to mention a disturbing tremor makes her hand tremble. I would like to be anywhere but here.

I notice her hesitation to answer because there is nothing to discuss but bad news. I know she is not thrilled to be here, nor happy to meet me. I just want our talk to be over with, but at the same time I wanted to avoid it. I gentle coax her from her seat, "If you'd like to follow me."

I lead the way to my office pushing the wooden door open, the door squeaking. I have always doubted the door was made of wood because of the noises it makes.

When we enter, she automatically sits in front of my desk. The chair she sits in is simple and black in color, not the most comfortable to sit in compared to my chair. My chair is a soft leather made to be sat in for lengthy periods of time, though the leather shows little wear. The sun may be up, but my blinds and curtains are closed, the ceiling light being the artificial sun.

"Do you want something to drink, madame?" I ask before I even sit down. I'll do everything to delay the fateful moment.

"Um... Some water, please," she asks, her voice weak and I almost want to roll under my desk and disappear. I bring her water in a glass, and the purple hue of the cup turns the water a slight purple. Her hands grip it gently, and I notice that all her nails are eaten away, some even have bloody cracks. 'Poor woman,' I think.

I sit quietly at my desk and take a deep breath. I grab a notebook and a black pen before speaking. "So Mrs. Yaeger, your son Eren has disappeared since last night, is that right?" I ask, wanting to slap myself mentally, of course, that's right.

"Yes, he wasn't there when I got home from work," she whispers, taking a sip of water. I swear if this lady begins to cry I will do the same.

"When did you come back?" I question.

"Around 7 pm, he is always in the house before me..." her voice breaking a little.

"And your husband?" I ask because I noticed the wedding ring on her finger.

"He comes back much later than I; he's a doctor," she explains. I thought that the name Yaeger told me something, it's the name of the doctor's office that is in Shiganshina, it's rather a famous institute.

"Madame, you may have heard in the news that..." I state trying to say the right words but my god how am I supposed to say this? "..The serial killer A' made an appearance in the region... "

"Do not tell me that-" she stifles a sob, covering her mouth with her hands.

I take a deep breath answering her unfinished question, "The boy found matches Eren's description, but we need your confirmation, madam." Seeing her and speaking to her, it felt like my heart would tear into a million pieces but I needed to speak clearly. It was necessary in order to push forward in the investigation and also, out of respect for Madame Yaeger.

I continue speaking, " A notable feature of the deceased young boy we discovered is an old scar just below the right ear. Does your s-"

"Yes," she answers not allowing me to finish speaking. She wipes a tear with her hand and I curse myself mentally for not having any tissue in my office. She rambles on, "He had eight stitches when he was eleven years old."

I look down on the report from the medical examiner, and it is matching. God, I wish I could tell her that we were wrong but if we were wrong, then this deceased boy belonged to another family, and that would mean her son was still missing. However, we weren't wrong; this was her son. My silence confirms her worst fears, making her ask what no parent should, "What happened to him ..?"

"Uh... he's dead madam I-" I say, not able to give her my condolences before she cuts in.

"I know that, I want to know what happened to my baby, I want to know exactly what happened to him!" she said, rage and tears mingling in a deadly combo.

"I'm not sure you should know that madam," I tell her honestly.

"The media reports that he is doing disgusting things to his victims, that... I just want to know exactly what happened, I don't want to stay in the dark," she assures me, and I tell myself that mothers have a courage that I will surely never have.

"Alright," I murmur and I turn the page of the report and begin to explain it without daring to look her in the eyes. "He died of bleeding, mainly due to a deep cut on his right thigh. Lab results determined no drugs or poison were present at the time of death. When he was discovered, he was found only in his underwear; the body covered in lacerations. On his chest is inscribed a capital letter 'A' followed by an apostrophe, the letter being seventeen centimeters in height. The fingernails on his hands have been torn off, and some fingers were broken as well. His teeth have also been removed. It's a peculiarity on some of his victims; he is the twelfth body found with this remarkable fact." Fortunately, she did not ask me to see the pictures of her son's body which are worthy of being their own worst horror movie.

"If he... if he died of a hemorrhage, does that mean he was alive all the way through?"

"Yes, madam."


	2. Chapter 2

"Farlan! Give me a mojito, please!" I nearly shout to my brother when I entered his bar, my friend trailing directly behind me. My friend insisted that I go out to clear my head after I had told her about my day, and I choose my brother's bar.

"Someone's had a bad day," he says, already in the midst of starting his task. I stand across from him with my friend, the varnished wooden countertop separating us that was by the entrance of the bar. The seating area for the patrons are to the left and can be seen from the outside to attract potential business. Those already seated at the tables shouldn't hear us.

"How did you guess?" I ask as I lean against the countertop.

"You always come to see me when something's wrong," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

I don't argue with him, the purpose of my visit is definitely to forget about today's events. "Hanji, do you want something to drink, I'm buying," I asked changing the subject.

Hanji smiles at me, "A white beer then." she pipes up excited. I'm guessing she is currently broke; it is the beginning of the month. She is the type of person to spend her money needlessly. I have seen all the junk she has bought before.

"Okay girls, go sit. I'll bring you your orders in a few," he motioned.

I nod my head and head over to my regular spot, a table next to one of the windows hoping I can finally relax. There are only three other people in the bar besides us which isn't so bad considering it is only 8 pm. Maybe other patrons will come in if they see us.

I appreciated the decor of this place; it was a nice bar. The walls of the bar are painted red with beautiful wooden columns spaced evenly apart, and the floor is made up of black and white tiles, which gives the bar it's cozy atmosphere.

The tables are small and round made of the same material of the columns, varnished burgundy wood, just like the matching chairs. Then towards the opposite end of the room is a spot with brown and white armchairs, sometimes I sit there to drink coffee. The final touch to the ambiance is the yellow glow of the streetlights coming from the outside.

"So you met the boy's mother whom I autopsied?" Hanji asks. She's the medical examiner in charge of the case concerning A', she is excellent at her job.

"Yes..." I whispered, looking outside the window. I hope it wasn't going to rain out...

"How was it?" she asks curiously.

"The worst moment was when I had to tell her that he was murdered by A'. You should have seen her face when she realized how much her son had suffered before dying." I murmured as I thought back to my afternoon.

I can feel myself on the verge of crying. How did I manage to say that to a mother? I find that as an inspector we are not prepared at all for that. I would have to say it was definitely the hardest task of my career so far.

"I still don't think it is alright to have put you on this case when you only just arrived," Hanji says, well aware of how terrible this case is because they are never any clues found, yet the murders continue. It's literally an endless nightmare.

"Nobody wants to get their hands dirty and waste their time, and I find that is horrible for the families of the victims, and the victims themselves," I confessed to her. I care a lot about this case, not because I am new or the fact no other inspector wants to work on it, its just because I care about the victims who suffered from the hands of this unknown killer.

"It's ever since the murder of Naile Dork." Hanji began but then paused briefly before continuing, "You may not have known, but Naile was also taking care of the case a few years ago in another office in Karanese."

"I vaguely heard about it," I said remembering seeing his picture when I was going thru the victims' folders but I did not read his file, there being just too many victims of A',

"He had insulted A' on a TV show, treated him as a psychopath, things like that. He was very good at talking, but not at all for investigating. Anyway, two days later his body was brought to my lab for an autopsy, A' had obviously not appreciated him at all. " Hanji explains to me. That's when my brother arrives to give us our drinks and to take the order of the customer behind us making us momentary pause.

I stir the ice cubes and mint in my drink almost automatically without really bothering to watch what I'm doing. I had chosen a cool and refreshing drink despite the outside air being already cool, and the sky threatening to rain at any given moment. I'm really afraid to go home while it's raining...

"In addition to being a mental case, he dares attack people who stand against him," I say, taking a sip of my drink. "When I think about all this, the boy, Eren... He was only sixteen years old ..." his body was almost entirely cut up, only his face seemed to be recognizable.

"I admit that every time a body is brought in to me I am always troubled..." troubled is a big word for Hanji, her obsession with morbid things is very pronounced. If she happens to be disturbed by the work of A' you know that it isn't a joke. "You know he's not his youngest victim." Hanji continued.

"Yes, I think there's a younger victim, a fifteen-year-old girl," I murmur quietly, and when I turn my head to glance outside again, I see the rain has started to fall.

"Lidia Arch was fifteen, and she was his very first victim from what we know. It was almost nine years ago, but I remember it very clearly," she states taking off her glasses to rub her eyes for a few seconds before continuing. "She had her teeth pulled out, and she was also raped."

I had noticed this was often true for his female victims and I listen to the rest of Hanji's words. "She was really young, pale skin and blue eyes... Almost like you." Hanji says sadly, and I must admit I didn't expect her words, they caught me off guard.

I look a lot like my brother Farlan, especially when it comes to my eyes. Some even think that we are false twins and that's because Farlan is a little genius, he skipped a year of school, so we were in the same class. But in spite of that he never really liked school, especially university, so he dropped everything to open a bar in the middle of Trost's business district. He's much happier the way things are going for him, he meets people every day, and I know that's what he likes.

"You know Hanji; I'm very intrigued by this story of the victims' teeth being removed..." I started, ignoring my drink focusing on the case. "Why only twelve victims and why ripping out their teeth..." it's something I can't understand in this case.

"To remove teeth impressions, so that we can't identify them," Hanji answered as if it was clear for her, but for me, it was far from it.

"No, he would have burned their fingertips to make identification more difficult or impossible," I say, contradicting her.

"It's true, but it's rare to have your fingerprints on record, most of the time we have teeth impressions," Hanji argues.

"Maybe, but in the end, the bodies were identified so whats his real aim here. It doesn't make any sense..." Really the more I think about this, the more I feel we should investigate this further.

"Listen, Nora, this guy is sick, he's doing insane things that we can't understand, he may even be doing it on purpose to make us go around in circles," Hanji said, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

But I refuse to let him make fun of me, not after seeing Eren's corpse.

I can't stand that he is roaming the streets looking for more victims.

"Who knows, maybe the clues are hinting we need to focus on the identities of the victims, maybe they're all connected to one another," I mutter looking outside, seeing a high school girl running with her bag over her head trying to stay as dry as possible.

Then just behind her, is a man with a thick black scarf wrapped snug around his neck wearing a long high necked coat. I must confess even if I weren't a young girl all by herself on a lonely street I would have changed sidewalks, knowing a killer was on the loose.

The rain is so heavy puddles have already formed, and I wonder how I would get home because I didn't take my car to work since I decided to take the public transport not wanting to pay for gas being cheap. The bar is just a stone's throw away from work; however, I didn't want to be like that young girl, nothing ever good comes out of traveling alone. Not even for men, just look at Eren and the others...

Though, how can A' fear an investigator who travels by bus? I should not have anything to fear, I have just started the case, and I was no one of importance.

"But why does he leaves clues? It's completely stupid!" Hanji exclaims looking more like the everyday Hanji I know when she talks like this.

I turn my head away in thought, almost reluctant to look her before speaking, "Surely because he's bored, but I do not know." She sighs, before taking a deep sip of her beer while I have hardly touched my drink. The little bits of mint beginning to sink sadly to the bottom.

"Stop overthinking, it'll make you crazy, insane almost, just look at me, "She said, finishing her drink completely.

Stop overthinking? After seeing Eren's mother completely devastated, I can only overthink. I don't understand why that makes people give up, even after the death of Naile Dork, they should still be indignant.

"Mmmmhhhr," I almost growl completely depressed by the situation. I slowly stir the contents of my glass in order to think about something else, but it's in vain. An idle thought crosses my mind noticing that it is already dark outside, 'Was the girl running from the rain or something else?'

I watch as my friend puts her beige coat, grabbing her orange beaded bag before getting up. I assume she was leaving to go home and she then states what I am thinking, "I'm going home Nora, it's getting late, but thank you for inviting me."

She parts from the table smiling, and I smile back giving a half wave, bidding her a good night before she exits. After she leaves I collapse into my arms, the stress and my depression getting to me. I decided to stay hoping for the rain to calm down.

The customer behind me calls to me, startling me from my semi-nap.

"Excuse me," he says, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I raise my head to look at him a little surprised. "You know that I could hear your whole conversation with your friend, it's not very professional," he says with a small, mocking smile. But who does this man think he is? He was touching my shoulder which is rude for a stranger and then criticizing my professionalism. I become angry a little to fast, but my mood was already sour from earlier, he shouldn't have been eavesdropping.

"In that case, why didn't you say something from the beginning?" I ask, glaring at him. He responds with an arrogant smile instead of words. He was the customer my brother served after us. He takes his cup of tea into his hand before getting up and sitting at my table as if I had just invited him.

"Curiosity is one of my many sins," he informs me, finally deciding to speak to me as he sips his tea. As he drinks his tea, his gray eyes paralyze me almost on the spot, the air becoming heavy. This guy was bad news.

"It was a rather confidential discussion, wasn't it? It's not safe to talk about it here," he hums, and he acts as if I couldn't have heard his sarcastic little laugh at the end of his sentence.

I like to cut him off even though it is not polite, but he speaks before I get the chance to, "I'll keep everything to myself, don't worry Nora," he says finishing his thought. The raven hair man mentioning my name immediately alerted me, but I quickly remember that Hanji had said my name multiple times so it would be normal he knew it.

"And you are?" I asked leaning back in my chair a little to put a little distance between him and I. He's handsome not to mention incredibly attractive; he's too perfect to be honest.

"Levi Ackerman, nice to meet you," he says, holding out his hand to me, and I hesitate to grab it for a second, but I end up doing it because it will be incredibly rude to ignore him. I know he expects me to give him my last name but I will not give him that pleasure.

"Do you often do that?" I asked.

"What?" he responds, raising an eyebrow pretending not to know what I am talking about.

"Sit at a girl's table when you are not invited," I answer to make him understand that I don't want him at my table.

He chuckles but I must say that his laughter is the most terrifying thing about him. Shit, why does this man scare me so much? I shouldn't be afraid; I'm in my brother's cafe, the slightest problem and I can scream. But at this moment I really feel like a lamb caught between the claws of a wolf.

"Not really, only when they please me," he says, and I frown at his words. It's a banal phrase that any flirt could have said but coming from him I am not sure how to understand the intention behind the phrase.

He wears a black suit jacket that matches his shirt, and his cufflinks seem to be expensive while his haircut is flawless. It gives him a serious and intimidating look, which his eyes also reproduce. This man is definitely to die for.

I do not answer and turn my attention back to the outside hoping he'll leave soon.

"It's strange to order this kind of drink when it's cold out," he states talking about my mojito. It's true that I ordered it a little on a whim.

"I just wanted alcohol," I respond having no desire to finish my drink now that he is in front of me. I want to push my drink away, but the behavior would appear childish.

"I'm sure after having such a day, many people would need alcohol," replies Levi, leaning his head slightly to the side. A lock of hair shifts to the middle of his forehead from his movement which immediately catches my eye.

I was lost in my thoughts until he starts talking again. "Maybe you want to talk about it?" he adds while crossing his legs. "You've heard enough already," I say dryly, and it still makes him laugh a little. I think he laughs at me too much which is creepy.

"I see then..." he hums happily taking a pen out of his pocket before he starts writing something on a piece of white paper towel.

He resumes speaking, "Don't hesitate to call me, I'll be ecstatic if you do, and I wish you all the luck in the world to catch A' my dear Nora," and by the time he finished speaking, he has written his number and his name on the paper towel.

And so as to not make a scene and to leave as soon as possible I take it from him. I stuff it in the pocket of my gray coat, and from my actions, it is obvious that I do not intend to call him.

"Thank you," I say in a sweetly sick tone. I watch as he gets up placing down money for his drink, even more than what's necessary, but I say nothing about it since the money is for my brother only saying a simple farewell, "Goodbye..."

I want to sigh with relief but hold back. I hope I never run into him again. He offers his farewell, "See you soon," and with these last words, he leaves.


	3. Chapter 3

I look at the coffee pouring into the paper cup while I hold the file of Lidia Arch, the first victim of A'. It is precisely at this moment that my superior, Erwin Smith, decides to enter the employee lounge. It's a pretty bright room with a sink, a microwave, and a coffee machine so that inspectors can take their break. There is a table in the middle with chairs similar to the black chair in front of my desk in my office. The blinds here are always open which allows the single potted plant to flourish. I notice that they like potted plants here, I almost see one in every room.

"Hello, Mr. Smith," I tell him automatically, my gaze barely leaving my cup.

"Hello, you're early this morning Nora," he replies, and I frown a bit when I hear this, him being overly friendly as usual. Although I know that he's extremely kind and that he considers me in high regards, I do not like being called by my first name while I call him by his last name. This is valid for anyone, but Smith is a very respectable person, so I accept this fault of his.

"I think I found a lead on case A' so I wanted to start as soon as I can." I justified myself, taking my coffee which is finally ready.

"Oh that's great, do you mind sharing it with me?" my superior asks, filling a glass with water.

"I don't mind but the files are in my office, and it's not a very promising lead," I respond by restraining myself from drinking my coffee, I really want to take a sip, but it would be extremely rude.

"No worries, let's go to your office," he says as he leaves the room without even waiting for my answer. I hurry to follow him, still taking the time to close the door behind me. He enters my office which was not locked since I was there a few minutes ago. Smith grabs the chair usually in front of my desk to put it next to my chair. He sits down, and I do the same because I don't want to waste time.

I carefully put my coffee down without spilling it. It's at this moment that I see that yesterday's cup is still on my desk, after having seen the victim's mother. I had completely forgotten to throw it away, but I pay no mind to it, and I open my folders to start discussing my lead.

"There are 62 victims; these 62 have all the same features without exception. Indeed all of them have died of a hemorrhage due to numerous cuts and incisions to their skin. And every victim has the A' one their body, mostly on their back or chest. " I say to expose the groundwork of my reasoning.

"Yes that's correct," responds Smith who's very attentive. I steal copier paper from my printer to take notes while I speak.

"But there are also noticeable differences in the way they are tortured, and that's what interests me," I said, first writing a 62 at the top of the sheet. "We already notice that he has a preference for women since he murdered 39 females." I then mark on the paper the girl-boy ratio of his murders. "What interests me mainly is to see how he tortured his victims, for example, he raped 21 women, so it's not systematic." I then write on the sheet, this first detail. "Then 47 of his victims had their nails torn off, and their fingers were broken," I add this second number to the sheet. "More rarely he decides to torture them by burning them with heated objects; he did it on 8 people." I also write this number on the paper. "Finally, and that's what interests me the most, he removed the teeth of 11 victims." I mark the last number on the sheet, the numbers making sense only to me.

Mr. Smith remains pensive for a few seconds before speaking. "Why do you care about teeth?" he asks.

"I admit that it's more instinct than anything else, that's why I do not neglect the other peculiarities." I justify myself a little embarrassed, I don't find it very professional to rely on my instincts, but I can't help it I guess.

"Please continue, Nora," he urges.

"So that makes four particular groups, and I think there is something which connects all four groups and the people in them or at least there is a reason behind each kind of torture," I state before sighing while looking at my paper. It makes me realize how many innocents were killed by A'.

62

23M - 39F

21 47 8 11

"Have you started looking for commonalities?" asks Mr. Smith.

"Not yet, I have just arrived at this," I answer a little surprise. What was he expecting? I can't have everything solved and figured out already.

"Yes, it's true so excuse me, I'll let you work then," he says, getting up. When he was about to exit my office, he turns towards me one last time. "It makes me happy to see that someone is trying to solve this case," he says, smiling at me. "Keep going, Nora."

He leaves the room closing the door, and it's my turn to smile. What he told me really touched me, I am determined to follow this lead until the end. I get up to open the curtains and blinds in order to cheer up this room a bit. The morning gray sun passes through my window illuminating my face. I feel like today will be different than all the others days. Actually, I feel like nothing's going to be the same from today. Maybe it's just because I let the sun come into my office and it gives me the illusion of being a new woman. I'm certain that something changed today, but I don't know what. At least I'm not planning to buy a stupid potted plant so I must not have changed this much.

I think I should organize myself before starting. After I sit back in my chair and stop overthinking, I begin to list each woman who has been raped. I realize that he is only interested in women who don't exceed thirty. I also notice that he did not rape the 22-year-old girl who was very pretty in the photos that I have seen. What makes him choose then? Is it just pure instinct or does he really choose in advance?

The more I go forward in the research I conclude that it must certainly be due to impulses or something like that since no link seems to exist between the girls. I sigh a little disappointed, my eyes leaving my computer's screen. I'm starting to have a headache from having my eyes glued to this thing. I wonder if I should not make an appointment with an ophthalmologist just to be sure.

My coffee cup is already empty, and I get up to throw yesterday's and today's cup away. I really want to take a break it's been four hours since I been working and I can't find anything interesting.

There's also something almost scary that I noticed. His first crime was nine years ago, but that year he killed "only" two people, the next year three, and the year after six. It increases exponentially until this year when we are at 23; it's a major increase. That also means one more thing; he must have taken a liking to it. In fact I find it downright frightening since we are only in October and this year is not over.

I am beginning to understand why the other investigators are no longer involved in this case. In addition to being a real headache, it is enough to give you terrifying nightmares.

I decide to take a little break and go out to eat something outside. I don't know where I'm going yet, but I really need to stop for a few minutes to stop torturing myself.

The business district of Trost is really lively; it was completely renovated five years ago by the two famous architects, the Arlerts. I am not very interested in these things, but the end result was successful. It's very nice to walk around here now, and I decide to stop at a small restaurant that serves vegetarian dishes which is a must for me. I take an aubergine gratin that I try to savor as best as I can. The color scheme here is a combination of green and orange. It's a little cliché for a vegetarian restaurant, but that does not bother me. On the other hand what bothers me is the small posters where carrots and salads speak as if they were alive. I think it could have done without the posters really.

When I finish my dish I do not bother to take a dessert, I really do not have time, and I get up and go back to the office to continue the investigation. I feel a lot better, and I'm already more motivated than if I were to eat in my office.

When I sit down on my leather chair, I decide to tackle the group of victims who had their nails torn off even if I think this group has little meaning due to how many victims fell into it. It's a technique of torture used often, and I'm not too surprised that he does it frequently.

The victims are often found in random places in the region such as parks, streets, and gardens ... There's, however, no trace of blood and rarely trace of a struggle in the victims' home. At Eren's, for example, it's as if he had never returned home, there's only his school bag which shows that he went home and that's where everything started. The question I ask myself is how does the killer interact with the victims without being seen?

There are never any witnesses to break-ins, yet people are abducted at times when there are citizens in the streets. It's still a dark area in the case, but I intend to clear it up.

To return to the group of victims with nails torn off, I don't see anything significant. Honestly, they're so many that I think there is no point in digging in that direction. I already lost a lot of time on that, and I think I should now work on the victims who had burns on their bodies. I am also very intrigued by these injuries, especially since there are only eight victims with it. But these are simply burns left by iron rods, nothing indicating the burns have a meaning. Hanji noted that it was probably done with a heated screwdriver. The burned places are also mundane so the arms, the legs or the belly. It depresses me a little to see that I can't find anything. It's as if he walks in the street and he chooses a random person every time...

A noise at my door makes me come out of my thought before they get crazier. The door opens before I can answer, 'Who is it,' and I get angry internally about this cruel lack of politeness.

"Nora, are you ok?" calls out the person. It was Mr. Smith so I can't really get upset with him.

"Yes, yes, why?" I ask, turning my rolly chair towards him.

"It's becoming late, and you need to go home," he says, and I glance at the time on my computer, 20:34, indeed I can be a little abusive regarding of working overtime.

"You're right, I'm finishing what I was doing, and I'm going home," I say, and he gives me a warm smile that I give right back.

"Did you find something?" he asks.

"No nothing," I answer, and it depresses me just to think about it. He wishes me a good evening before leaving, and I go back to work so I can quickly go home.

I just want to do one thing before I leave, it's to draw up the list of the victims who have had their teeth pulled out. I will not let go of this lead, I feel that there is something important behind it.

-Arch Lidia

-Caderou Vanessa

-Winslet Mejio

-Furtosse Isabelle

-Salerau Katia

-Valetienne Antoine

-Donaton Andres

-Declora Evano

-Martin Rita

-Rose Camille

-Yaeger Eren

I write them in the chronological order of their death. I don't know if I'll find something, but for now that will do the job. The fact that their teeth have been torn off gives me the impression that it's their identity that must be looked at. I focus on their first and last name, but I don't really see anything noticeable. Nonetheless, I'm have been working on this since this morning; I should try again tomorrow and maybe I'll be more efficient.

I hesitate to take the list of names home, but I leave it not wanting to take work home. I get up from my chair and put on my red wool jacket, I would normally be wearing my grey coat but when I went to put it on this morning it was still wet from yesterday's rain. I just hope it's not going to rain today too. If it rains, I think I will probably call a taxi, since I don't want to relive the suffering of yesterday.

Thanks to my now open blinds I can see that it's dark outside, but I can't see if it's raining and I'm too lazy to open the window. I take my phone off my desk, and then check to see if I have my keys before locking the door and leaving. When I'm out, I tell the guard that I am leaving, and he informs me that I am the last employee to leave the building. If only I received overtime...

I walk to the bus stop relieved. Fortunately, it is only damp without any rain. My bus arrives quickly which is the advantage of working in a busy city like Trost. My house is on the outskirts of Trost, on the other side of this huge wall. The reason for the wall never been understood.

Urban legends tell that it was to protect us from human-eating beast two thousand years ago. At least the area is famous all over the world for its impressive walls, and it makes the city huge with tourists. I personally find that it's just a little too much and because of it there's sometimes a lack of sun but it's only my opinion. The bus ride is fast and I go down the street adjacent to mine. Even if it's not in Trost, it is still very urbanized.

I finally open the door of my house, and I was welcomed by warmth. It is a very small house, located at the corner of two streets and half of my salary goes to the rent, but I like it. The living room and the kitchen are open to one another with toilets in the back of the room hidden by the stairs. It's very narrow and quiet, and the only place to put a couch and a TV is in the living room because there is no dining room thus I'm forced to eat at the bar of my kitchen. When you go up there is a small landing without any windows, and on the left, there's the door to my bedroom and on the right a door leading to the second bathroom. It's simple and incommodious but nice. I put my red jacket on the couch before going into the kitchen to eat something; I was starving.

I feel something soft rub against my legs, and I guess I'm not the only one who is hungry. My cat is greedy, I think it can be guessed by looking at his body. His name is Sina; it's not me who chose the name, it's the breeder whom I brought him from five years ago. I hurry to give him kibble, and he's mad at me for coming home so late. He must be starving, the poor little cat. I'm so exhausted that all I can make for myself is pasta and I feel like I've returned to my life as a student.

After eating I'm going to shower, I always dreamed of having a bath, but I have to be satisfied with a shower. I put on a sweater too big that is in the rather impressive dresser in my room. My room is really nondescript; I have a window framed by brown curtains, a wooden dresser that belonged to my grandmother and a king size bed that unfortunately has only known me for a few years. If it had not been covered with the many different colored pillows and blankets my room would have been slightly depressing. It may be because I am a depressed person that I find everything depressing. That's what Hanji told me one day, and it's in my head; I think I would know if I was depressed but she's right, I have a tendency to find everything bland and disinteresting.

I fall back onto my bed and swear because once again I have hit my head against the iron headboard. I've never seen such bullshit, why put a super hard thing where people put their heads to sleep? But I'm the one who bought it because it was on sale so I can only blame myself.

The next day I'm already more motivated than the day before, I feel fine, and for once Sina did not come to lick my face at odd hours of the night. I feel like it's his passion sometimes but I can not blame him. I put on my gray coat which is finally dry to my great happiness. On the way to the office, I decide to have a great coffee at Starbucks next door because the cups in the break room are too small and it annoys me that I always have to fill them up again.

Once in the building, I went directly to my office without taking the time to greet my colleagues. They don't do it with me so why must I be the only polite one here.

I lay my eyes on the list of names I wrote up yesterday, and I have the impression that it's on this sheet that lies the key to cracking the case.

-Arch Lidia

-Caderou Vanessa

-Winslet Mejio

-Furtosse Isabelle

-Salerau Katia

-Valetienne Antoine

-Donaton Andres

-Declora Evano

-Martin Rita

-Rose Camille

-Yaeger Eren

I am sure there is a connection between all these people, something that makes sense. I'm looking at whether the first letters of family names seem to form a word but nothing, in fact, there are not enough vowels for this to form something coherent. If I look at the first names, there are enough vowels to form one or more words, but in this order, I don't understand anything.

L

V

M

I

K

A

A

E

R

C

E

In the order of death, the letters do not mean anything. So I try to classify people by age, this gives:

A

K

E

M

R

V

A

C

I

E

L

It doesn't mean anything either, and I continue trying other combinations such as, their date of birth, the distance between the places we found them, and a lot of other things like that but nothing each time. The worst is that this sequence of letters really tells me something. I am frustrated because I recognize this group of letters but nothing is clicking, so I try by marking the letters of the beginning but horizontally.

LVMKEAIRACE

It's weird I really feel like it's a word I know... I'm trying to think about what combination I didn't think of. There is one, but it is not often used, in fact in training we are often told that it is almost useless to try it. It's classifying the victims by date of birth without taking into account their year of birth. If I do that, it gives me:

AMREKCAIVEL

I am fixing the letter sequence for a few seconds and all of a sudden I think I have found it. No, I must be crazy. It's not possible. It's really not possible that this is it. But that can not be a coincidence. It's so crazy that I must be dreaming. I invert all the letters, and I plunge my hand into my coat, my hand trembling now as I pull out the napkin from Farlan's bar.

LEVIACKERMA

Levi Ackerman - 06 12 34 56 78

At that moment, I was convinced that I won. But in reality, I had just done exactly what he wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

"Yes?" says a man, the same man that I met at the bar last night and I nearly jumped when I hear it

"Hello, I'm Nora-" I start to say and he cuts me off. I refrain myself from letting him know that it is extremely rude.

"Nora, yes I remember, what a pleasure it is to hear from you," he says almost mockingly. He has not changed, his voice still makes me shiver, but now I think I know why.

"Thank you..." I mutter, my heart beating way too fast and I fear he can hear it from the other side.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking with you today, dear Nora," he asks, and I feel like vomiting when I think I'm possibly talking with the country's most terrifying serial killer.

"I would like to see you again," I state and it's definitely not the kind of thing I'm used to saying to a man, normally I wouldn't have dared.

"I see that my little paper has been helpful." he hums out, the change of his tone completely different making me pale. 'Little?' I think, could he have guessed?

"Useful? Yes, otherwise I couldn't get back to you sir." I say trying to act as if nothing has happened. I need to get him to a secure location so I can bring him in for questioning, perhaps I should have told Mr. Smith before calling him.

"Don't play dumb with me, Nora, I'm very proud of you, you know," he says and it's from that sentence that I realize it's me who's trapped and not the other way around. That 'little paper' containing his name and number was given to me on purpose. How can I be so stupid?

"That doesn't annoy you?" I ask. "Annoy me? No, everything goes as planned but I'm delighted, it's nice for you to worry about me, dear Nora." he replies and I feel like I'm starting to panic. What's wrong with this man?

"You're welcome," I say sarcastically to save time and to figure out what to say next. This man makes me feel like a five-year-old girl again which is terrifying. I'm having difficulty trying to figure out how to respond to his questions.

"Maybe you have a crush on me?" he asks in a tone that I can not describe but makes me feel uncomfortable.

"Disgusting," I whisper to myself and I hope he didn't hear me.

"Too bad then, because you interest me a lot," he says and I don't know if he is saying he's interested in me, as a woman or a potential victim.

"Do you really think you can get away while I have your name and I can trace this call?" I ask him trying to refocus on the subject.

"I took my precautions, everything will be fine, you should rather worry about yourself, the last missing letter is an N, Nora." and with that, he hangs up and his phrase hits me hard. There is a feeling of panic rising in me very quickly. I didn't dream: he threaten me.

I remain petrified on the spot for a few seconds, staring at my coffee, which as of right now does not look very appetizing. I think I've never been so scared for my life until now. It's an icy fear that freezes me and leaves me shaking. I feel that my thinking and analytical skills are halved.

I get up slowly from my desk, the air around me has never seemed so heavy. I open the door with incredible slowness and head for Mr. Smith's office. That's what I should have done from the beginning, I don't know what was wrong with me to call this number without warning someone.

I knock on his door hoping he's here and he can save me. I really feel like I'm going to die by the end of the day. It's a horrible feeling, all I want to do is roll myself into a ball and cry until the end of the day, giving in to panic. I knew this man was strange since I met him. But I was far from the truth, and that in reality, he was a killer who was after me since the beginning. The door opens revealing my superior with a blue pen in his hand, maybe I'm disturbing him.

"Yes, what-what's up Nora, you look like you're going to faint!" exclaims Mr. Smith, seeing me. My terror starts to be physically visible, which is not good at all.

"I feel like I might just be about to but there is really something I need to talk to you about," I tell him and I realize that my voice is about to crack.

He signals for me to enter his office and to sit, which I immediately do so. I tell him everything from the beginning, the meeting at the bar, the towel, the call and the threat.

"Are you completely sure that he's A'?" he aks without really questioning my words, just to insure.

"I'm sure, yes... What scares me is that I have the impression he had planned everything from the start." I add.

"Well, we'll try to trace the phone number, see where the call was made and research who's this Levi Ackerman." Erwin begins, noting what he has said on a sheet of paper. "Tomorrow we will have you sit down with a sketch artist so we can have a portrait of him done, okay?" he asks. I agree with him even if I'm not sure if I will remember his face clearly since I was drinking and avoiding his face because I felt uncomfortable.

"In the meantime, I want you to go home, I'll escort you personally and put a policeman on watch at your residence tonight." he finally says and it's a real relief for me. It's as if a big weight has been removed from me, and I'm already breathing much better. To know that he will escort me and that nothing will happen to me tonight is a real relief.

Once Mr. Smith has informed my colleagues of the situation and organized the guard for tonight, he gets up and asks me to follow him. We head down to the building's basement parking lot and I must say I never been down here much. I don't usually take a car to work because the smell of gasoline and pollution bothers me a bit. I especially don't like this place because it is also dark and scary, it's definitely not what I need at the moment with a serial killer threatening me.

Mr. Smith opens the door of a black car with tinted windows, and I am surprised at his politeness which is not often visible. I sit in the leather seat, buckling my seatbelt while noticing this car looks extremely expensive. I don't usually ride in luxurious cars, or even being around things that cost a fortune. He pulls out of the parking lot and the light dazzles me a bit because of the change of brightness. His conduct is very reassuring, making me feel at peace. Fortunately, he's not the type of man to exceed speed limits or to stop for nothing. I point the way and I realize that the traffic is rather dense at this time of day. There is a lot of people out which is rather normal because it was noontime, exactly 12:15 pm if I believe the clock in his car to be right.

He finally arrives at my home, he even escorts me to my door and I am extremely grateful. It's reassuring even if it's not really dangerous to walk from the car to my door in broad daylight. Once alone inside I sigh in relief, the heat engulfing me which immediately makes me feel much better. My cat Sina comes to my feet while meowing and I let my handbag fall to the ground to take him in my arms.

"It looks like you missed me," I said jokingly. He purrs and starts to nibble my hand, he always does that and I think it's adorable so I never scold him. I end up putting him on the floor to remove my coat. I throw my coat on top of the red wool jacket I wore yesterday, and I decided I'll rearrange them later. I also remove my shoes so as not to dirty my whole house. I walk into the kitchen and notice that Sina's bowl of Purina is as full as was this morning, yet it's not in his nature to not eat after I been gone for so long. I frown at my cat, he likes food above all else, and normally he'll be begging me right now for food.

I take out a pot and fill it with water to boil it, I think I might make mashed potatoes, I love this dish and I do not eat it often. I take the potato bag out of my pantry and put it on the counter. I still have time before the water is hot so I decide to do some laundry. I try to keep myself as active as possible so as not to think about what happened this morning. I know that if I rest watching TV my mind will wander and I will end up having a panic attack, that's not what I want. I climb the stairs to my landing without bothering to turn on the light. I open the door of my room to take the dirty laundry that is in it but when I reach out to turn on the light everything goes wrong.

I try to scream when I feel an arm pass behind my back followed by a painful pinch as my arms are pinned behind me. However this cry is stifled by another hand that is firmly pressed against my mouth. It's impossible I must be having a nightmare, no way this is real. I try to pull my arms but the person has too much strength. No, it can't be him, I refuse for it to be him. I moan in pain as I felt my arms twist around my back more with tremendous force. I can normally defend myself very well but why can't I get away? I'm starting to panic and this is the worst thing that can happen. I try in a last moment of lucidity to rock my body strongly forward to make him fall. Unfortunately, he predicted my movement and pushes me viciously against the wooden dresser of my bedroom. A vivid sound of pain passes through his hand when I feel the corner of the dresser stab me in my stomach. Shit it hurts so much! He presses his upper body against mine pushing me against the surface of the furniture. I can't move, I can't do anything.

"I gave food to your cat, I hope you're not mad at me?" he asks and at that moment I think I'm about to faint, recognizing his voice. I already suspected that it was A' who was behind me, but now that it's confirmed, it's totally different. I try to scream and also to bite his hand but he presses so hard that I can't open my mouth to do it. "You're all shaky Nora, are you all right?" he asks, laughing softly at the end of his sentence. He's completely mad. Of course, my entire body is trembling with fear, but that's not a reason to give up. It's completely dark, I don't even know if I have something nearby to help me, I'm just in so much pain and so scared, it's like I'm not thinking properly. I'm really trying to scream for the neighbors to hear me, but everything seems to be smothered by his hand. "Hey... It's okay, no need to scream," he whispers leaning over me, telling me words that are meant to comfort into my ear. I start to cry when I realize that I'm screwed, that I can't do anything.

His hand leaves my mouth for a few seconds and I want to take this opportunity to shout but I barely opened my mouth that he sinks a rough and voluminous fabric into it. He presses hard so that it goes as deep as possible, and I nearly choke. My jaw aches and I can't speak.

"Are you crying already?" he says caressing my cheek covered with tears and I want to vomit while feeling his fingers slide over my skin. I was always the type of girl who would cry really easily when I was young. It was a reason why I had so much trouble making friends.

His hand then disappears and I hear a clicking sound behind me, so I shut up so I can hear and try to understand what it is. "I borrowed that from you, does it bother you?" he asks and I feel a cold metal wrap around one of my wrists. I start to panic even more, and it was then he lets go of my body but only to tie my other wrist.

As I still struggle to escape from his grip, I slip onto my side taking my chance to escape. I rush out of the room but I don't even have time to cross the door that I feel a burning pain emanating from my skull and I am yanked back by my hair. He slams me against his chest and his hand comes to rest on my throat, and my windpipes are barely given enough room for the passage of air for breathing.

"Good try." he laughs and I can feel his other hand slip along my body to my crotch. I give him as many hard kicks as I can, and it is at this moment he loses patience I think. He catches me by my hair again and he literally swings my head against the wall. I wasn't even given a chance to scream in pain because of how much the blow knocked the wind out of me.

He does it again and I'm on the verge of losing consciousness. I almost don't realize that he dragged me to my bed and that he undid the handcuffs to put them back but passing them behind the bars of my bed. It's only then he gets up to turn on the light that I start to regain full consciousness.

I blink a few times to get used to the light. My arms are forced above me and my head is extremely sore. In front of me stands a man of average height, athletic physique, black hair slightly ruffled and shaved on the sides. He wears black jeans and a white shirt. He also sports a scary smile and in his right hand a sharp knife.


End file.
